


Impertinent, intelligent, free

by Dreamystory



Series: genderbend HDM [2]
Category: His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, First Meetings, Genderbending, Lyra's World (His Dark Materials), Oxford, POV Mary, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:35:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29140881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamystory/pseuds/Dreamystory
Summary: Marius Coulter and Mariàn Malone and their first meeting
Series: genderbend HDM [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2136420





	Impertinent, intelligent, free

**Author's Note:**

> Casting  
> Joaquin Phoenix - Marius Coulter  
> Damian Lewis - Mariàn Malone

Getting settled in the morning, making oneself presentable in the eyes of those around him was certainly not a priority for him Dr. Mariàn Malone. He combed his hair, sprinkled himself with a little perfume ... but the natural curly and wild state of his red hair reappeared after a while (it was enough to leave the house). But he, with hands full of books and car keys in one finger, did not even notice as he hurriedly walked towards the college of St. Peter every morning.

Every day's the same routine: he greeted the doorman, took the elevator to the fifth floor, crossed the narrow white corridor with a few intersected doors in light wood, golden handle but worn with rust. Cavern updates from Olivia and observations on dark matter. He rummaged through the keys lazily, turned the key to the strictly double-locked office, opened the door and for a good ten minutes he enjoyed the silence of the early morning sitting in the chair of his messy desk. He liked being around people, but sometimes in the morning and the peace of them was sacred to him. Not that he spent his time arranging the papers scattered all over the place... He just looked through them lazily and then took a look at the wrens' nest that perched on the eaves just above the window every year after the cold winter. He closed the door behind him, looking for a moment that it had closed properly with one hand still on the handle and the other holding a ring notebook with his paperwork inside. His wristwatch said a quarter past eight, exactly twenty minutes before the doctor's time to enter the door before him. 

The start of a new long day with the prospect of part-time babysitting that afternoon at his niece and nephew, and those little faces always paid off for the length of the day.

But as he turned to put the bunch in the key ring next to the door, Mariàn froze at the sight of an unknown figure in his office.

"Can I help you?"

The broad-shouldered figure dressed in a black formal suit turned around, two intense green eyes fixed on the blazing blue of Mariàn's while the stranger moved completely towards him, the light filtering behind him colored his hair (slightly curled) in a few shades of red and then gold in a sequence as the sun comes covered by some clouds. 

Mariàn looked at him with distrust, head tilted to one side and distant and doubtful eyes while he kept a sober tone. His mouth remained half open for a brief moment, ready to ask the next question. "Yes. Mr. Malone?" was the man's question. 

" _Doctor_ Malone. Who let you in?" he promptly corrected the other, letting go of the books on his desk and placing a hand on his side. The other remained motionless, still like a statue with his hands folded placidly one over the other. A single ring was around his ring finger, and it flashed briefly as he moved his hand just as briefly. He was watching him, as if he were studying his every move. There was benevolence in his gaze, yet there was something cold and controlled in those clear irises. Something that commanded respect, attention, a strong presence. "I've read about your work, _Doctor_. And I find it extremely fascinating." 

A sufficient smile was all that was needed as an answer, Mariàn reached out a hand to the handle and pulled the door open. He clicked his tongue on the palate with a clear "If someone sends you, tell them they'll have to wait until the book is published." Sharp and clean, loud and clear. Assertiveness, that's all you need with nosy people. 

The man's response was otherwisely sufficient, his well-defined jaw briefly clenching as he spoke. "nobody sent me." he chanted calmly and in a low voice, a soft yet solid look at the same time observing the attitude of the other. "Marius Coulter, I am a scientific theologian." he said while Mariàn closed the door in a skeptical way, raising an eyebrow "you may know Lynel. I'm his father." 

Mariàn was watching the man now, and now that they were closer it was clear as water ... Facial movements , eyebrows, deep eyes and even the shape of the smile she was now giving him with a similair upper lip. But this was a more complex, more elegant and poised version of the rowdy kid who had left his studio in a hurry. The doctor closed the door he had opened again to ask him to go out, now looking at the other with eyebrows raised in amazement "Lynel's your son? Is he okay?" 

The other man nodded sternly, hands still clasped together and back straight. He spoke with every word, every syllable clearly. "He's fine. He's residing here in Oxford with some friends, and I've come to take him home." 

"he mentioned that there were problems at home..."

Mr. Coulter nodded conciliatorily. "everything is fine, I apologize if Lynel has bothered you." 

Mariàn vigorously shook his head, now approaching the other. " _oh!_ No, absolutely not! I loved talking to Lynel." A boy of just _twelve_ who mastered mathematics and physics in this way was surprising, considering how mathematics was a particular subject and physics even more so. His sister herself had always been more inclined to the humanities rather than spending days with a calculator in her hand and sheets of math everywhere. "His physics knowledge is astounding, does he take private lessons?"

The man looked down imperceptibly before those thin lips parted in an answer "I give him some lessons from time to time, I went to a scientific secondary school." Mariàn found himself hanging from the lips of the other, clinging to every micro movement of his very little tanned face. And though brief, the small movements of any kind of emotion on Marius Coulter were elusive, yet _clearly_ visible. 

The man's nature seemed full of contradictions.

Yet only such a man could have raised such a smart kid as Lynel. "you must be _so_ proud." And at that point a shadow passed over Marius Coulter's face, straight over his eyes which for a moment seemed to seem brighter than the darkness that had fallen around them. But a moment later he was cold and distant again, a very brief smile creased two dimples on the sides of his lips accompanied by a slight nod. It was so short that if Mariàn had blinked his eyes he would not have noticed the change in emotion.

"I am." And his tone was sober, confident again.

And this time not the shadow of a smile crossed the threshold of his mouth, only a neutral frown was on that face of his. Mariàn was not able to be silent, never was. Then a smile was printed on his face. "Your profession is rare, Mr Coulter." he said, leaning on a nearby chair and observing the other. He hadn't moved an iota, he just moved his head with every movement of the redhead, tilting it questioningly from time to time. "Where would you say that theology has to do with the scientific field?" 

It was another movement on his face, and this time in the form of a slight frown of those menacing "where does it not?" 

A second of silence in which Mariàn, for the first time, did not say a word to fill this. He simply blinked at him as if expecting a more logical explanation. In response, Mr. Coulter gave him a calm yet commanding look. He did not cross his arms, did not make his posture appear threatening or intimidating. A glance was enough to silence any discontent that went against his idea ... that Coulter man gave the idea of a powerful being, certainly someone who does not know what _insecurity_ is, or being inadequate.

Yet his gaze, now after passing a hand over his nose Mariàn eased the tension with a chuckle, seemed more reflective.

Almost tempting to a _silent irritation._

"Oh, please ... have a seat." Mariàn got up to close the window, a bit of cold was beginning to enter. "but please, tell me about her work, it must be interesting-"

and when he turned around, Mr. Coulter was gone and the door was wide open.

What a quiet Monday morning.


End file.
